


confessions

by prettiestvulcan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Fluff, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:00:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27378358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettiestvulcan/pseuds/prettiestvulcan
Summary: She gets paired with him for a project.  She never imagined he'd fall for her, too.
Relationships: Tadashi Yamaguchi/OC, Tadashi Yamaguchi/OFC
Kudos: 9





	confessions

**Author's Note:**

> Basically one of those "5+1" cliché stories I couldn't get out of my head. Be warned there's mentions of drinking/partying and marijuana use.

**➀**

She’s never noticed him before and, as they discuss plans for the group project, it’s obvious why. He’s soft-spoken, a very nervous individual, who keeps his eyes somewhere on the floor rather than looking directly at her. It’s obvious by the way he acts that their circles never touch. He stays out of the way, out of sight, to the point she wonders if sometimes the professors forget about him. They’re just so  _ different. _

In spite of their differences, she can’t help but find him cute. With his timid smile and freckled face, something about it draws her to him. Her, boisterous and outgoing; him, quiet and withdrawn. They would make an odd pair, but it’s not going to stop her from trying. When has anything ever stopped her from going after what she wants?

She exchanges numbers with him under the guise of better communication for the project, but mostly so she can text him late at night or early in the morning to ask what he’s doing. He always responds, even though he’s under no obligation to do so. She thinks it’s a good sign. So when they finally meet to work on the project, a full two weeks after it was assigned, she decides to go for it.

They’ve been working for a few hours, the library practically empty and the sun long since gone down. The ice from her iced coffee has melted, the condensation from the cup leaving a puddle on the laminate tabletop. She wipes at it with her hoodie sleeve, having forgotten napkins. He notices and passes her a few of his napkins. She gives him a wide smile before using them to sop up the moisture.

Deciding her coffee is a lost cause, she shoves the napkins into the plastic cup before taking it all to the nearby trash can. When she comes back, she sprawls her upper body along the table with a sigh, head resting on an outstretched arm, fingertips barely brushing the back of his laptop. She can hear him typing, taking her scribbled notes and diagrams and making them into a PowerPoint. She had tried to make her own slides, but they were so poorly made that he offered to redo them.

She looks up when the typing stops, finding him looking at her. His cheeks pink when he realizes she’s looking back, eyes quickly darting back to his laptop and pretending to read over whatever is on the screen. She knows he’s not actually reading anything because his eyes aren’t moving, staring directly at a spot on the screen. She grins, deciding this is her chance.

“Hey,” she drawls, waiting for him to look at her again. “Go out with me.”

She watches his eyes go wide, his face turning a deep shade of red. It really highlights his freckles, making them stand out in contrast. She waits for him to think about it and give her an answer, still lazing on the table. Eventually, his blush starts to fade as his eyebrows come together, forming a cute little crease. His cheeks remain a light pink as he opens his mouth to speak.

“It’s not nice to joke around like that.” He scolds. “Someone might get hurt.” She frowns. Does he think she’s messing around? “Besides, we should be focusing on our presentation. Please pay attention and share in the work.”

She flounders, mouth opening and closing a few times before she huffs. She sits up, crossing her arms over her chest and slouching in the chair. Share in the work? He offered to redo those slides! If she knew he felt she was taking advantage of him, she would’ve just asked a friend to help her spruce them up. She looks away, glaring at a bookshelf, but mumbles an apology anyway.

She only looks back over when she hears him start typing again. Did he really think she was only joking around? And what he’d said had seemed almost rehearsed, like he’s used to people asking him out as a joke. That thought doesn’t sit well with her. She’ll just have to do more to show him that she’s being serious and not playing with his feelings.

**➁**

They’re friends, she thinks. They do homework together for the class they share, sometimes they grab lunch, but mostly they text. It’s off and on throughout the day, but it’s every day and they discuss everything from classes to TV shows to how they’re doing that day. They even share memes! So when one of her friends invites her to a huge sorority/fraternity party, she doesn’t hesitate to invite him as her plus one.

Surprisingly, he agrees. He says that classes have him stressed, so a party might help him think about anything other than his grades. She takes it as a good sign, one that suggests they’re friends and he trusts her. She’s hopeful that maybe he might believe her if she asks him out this time.

She’s nervous, which is out of character for her. It makes her feel weird, almost jittery. She drinks more than she probably should, but they don’t call it liquid courage for nothing. After a couple shots, she’s not feeling the nerves as much.

He drinks, too. Not as much as she does, but he agrees to shots with her. Afterwards, he sips on a beer for most of the night. He won’t dance with her, but that’s fine. She doesn’t need him to dance with her to have fun with him. He’s more than happy to be dragged from group to group as she talks to friends, not saying much but offering her a small smile when she looks towards him.

Finally, after she’s finished talking to everyone and sufficiently confident (and drunk), she tells him she has something to show him. He obliges, letting her drag him out of the frat house and into the backyard where the garden is. She leads him deep into the garden before plopping down on a bench. He mimics her actions, sitting beside her.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” she tells him.

“Thank you for the invite.” He offers her a gentle smile. “I’m not usually one for parties.”

“I know,” she giggles. “That’s one of the reasons I like you.” Her vision may be a little blurry, but she doesn’t miss his blush. “Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Go out with me.” She grabs his hand to show him her sincerity.

“You’re drunk,” he points out. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yes I do.” She pouts. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Just because I’m drunk doesn’t mean I don’t want to go on a date with you.”

“Okay, I get it.” He shushes her and she realizes tears have welled up. “Don’t cry. Just...if you’re serious, ask me again when you’re sober.”

“Fine,” she agrees, wiping at her eyes. “Let’s stay out here, though. I like the stars.”

“Okay,” he agrees. She grabs his hand again and he doesn’t protest. Little victories.

**➂**

He’s been avoiding her, though why she doesn’t know. Every time she asks him to hang out or do homework with her, he always has a convenient excuse. She doesn’t like it. It feels too much like he’s trying to get rid of her. They’re supposed to be friends. Right?

She doesn’t like feeling insecure. It’s new for her. It makes her feel a bit queasy. Her nerves are on edge and she jumps every time her phone vibrates. It’s not him, of course. It’s been a week and he’s not texted her unless she’s texted him first, but even then his replies are short. Brief and to the point. It’s weird and she doesn’t like it.

She knows where his dorm is, of course. She’s been there countless times to study and do homework with him, so finding it without him is easy. She just has to know why he’s ignoring her. If it’s something she did or something she didn’t do. She’d like to fix it if she can. Even if she has a crush on him, his friendship is more important to her.

No one in the dorm building pays her any mind, so she slips easily up to the fourth floor. She knocks on his door, hoping he’s actually there. She doesn’t hear anything at first, so she knocks again just in case. A few seconds pass before she hears movement inside. Hopefully he wasn’t sleeping.

“You’re not Tadashi,” she says when the door opens to reveal a tall blonde with black glasses. Did she go to the wrong room?

“Is that a girl?” A voice from inside screeches. Soon the tall blonde is pushed out of the way to make room for a smaller, female blonde. “Hi! You must be—”

“Yachi!” She hears him shout. Yachi must be the girl. Soon his face comes into view above Yachi’s head.

“Um...hi?” She feels awkward now. “Have I come at a bad time? I can leave and—”

“No!” He interrupts, nearly shouting. “I mean, no, you’re fine. You don’t have to leave.” She can feel two extra sets of eyes on her.

“Okay.” She hesitates. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course,” he stutters. He pushes the other two out of the way to make room for her. His already small dorm room seems even smaller with four people inside of it.

“You must be the girl Yama talks about.” The blonde girl says. “I’m Yachi, by the way, and this is Tsukki.” She gestures at the tall blonde. “We’re just visiting.”

“Cool.” She’s never met any of his other friends. He’s only mentioned them a couple of times. “Are you the Tsukki that plays for the Sendai Frogs?”

Her question seems to set off an avalanche of information, with Yachi doing most of the talking. She seems like an excitable person, but it’s rather endearing. She can see why Tadashi is friends with her. They share a lot of similar traits, though it seems like Yachi has grown out of most of her shyness. It probably helps that Tsukki is there, a comforting hand on her lower back. She wishes she could do that for Tadashi.

She finds out a whole lot about him, too. He’s apparently a lot more outgoing than he was in high school. It makes sense, considering the bullying he endured in middle school. Old wounds finally scabbed over, that sort of thing. Volleyball and his volleyball team likely helped a lot, too.

She gets asked questions, too. All things Tadashi already knows, but ones she’s fine with answering. Where she’s from, what she studies, how she met Tadashi. Then comes the inevitable.

“So, are you two dating?” Yachi asks. Tadashi chokes trying to get an answer out.

“Not yet.” She answers because she’s determined to get him to go out with her.

“Not yet?” Tsukki repeats, patting Tadashi on the back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He doesn’t believe me when I say I like him.” Tsukki looks at her knowingly. Yachi looks sad. “I’m still trying, though.”

“Good!” Yachi exclaims, smiling. She can’t help but smile back.

They talk for a while longer, about school and TV shows and random other topics. Eventually, Tsukki announces they have to leave. Yachi complains, but leaves after she gives the other girl her number. She lingers after the two have left, wanting to still speak with Tadashi.

“You didn’t have to say that,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “About liking me.”

“Why not?” She questions. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” he answers. A little too quickly. “Not really. It’s just hard to believe.”

“I’ve waited this long,” she begins. “I’ll wait as long as you need to believe it.”

“Thank you.” He offers her a small, private smile. His cheeks are pink. She loves that about him. Shy, but honest.

“Well, I guess I’ll head out too.” She stands, stretching her arms above her head. “It’s getting late and I’ve still got an essay to finish.”

“Okay.” He stands, too, following her to the door. “Video call me, okay? I know you won’t write that essay unless I’m there to keep you on track.” It’s her turn to blush.

“You know me too well,” she laughs. “But alright, I’ll call as soon as I get home.”

**➃**

They’re drinking in his room. A celebration for finishing finals. She’d brought something extra for them to try. A joint. He said he’d never smoked before so she’d offered to bring it. He’d agreed.

The room is a little warm as summer approaches, his tiny fan doing nothing to cool them. She’s thankful for the shorts she decided to wear. She takes a swig of her beer, watching him struggle to light the joint. The alcohol seems to have made him more nervous instead of less.

“Here,” she says. She reaches for the joint, carefully pulling it and the lighter from his hands. “I’ll show you.” She places the tip of the joint between her lips, freeing up her hands. She cups one around the flame, using the other to strike the lighter. Once it’s lit, she takes a deep drag. She holds it for a few seconds, until she feels the back of her throat tingling, then releases.

She hands the joint back to him, his face flushed from the alcohol. His freckles seem to stand out more when he’s red-faced. She watches him bring the joint to his mouth, lighting it for him, before he inhaled. He sputters and coughs, which she’d expected, and smiles.

“Takes practice,” she assures him.

“How often do you smoke?” He asks, voice rough.

“Not often,” she answers. She wonders if that’s what he sounds like during sex. If his face gets red like that. She quickly takes another drag before any of it shows on her face. “Here, let’s try something.”

She turns so they’re facing each other, knees touching. She doesn’t miss how his face goes a shade redder. She takes the joint from him, ashing it, before giving him her full attention.

“We’re gonna shotgun it,” she explains. “I’m going to take a drag, then lean in towards you. Open your mouth and I’ll blow the smoke into it.” She takes another sip of her beer. “It’s a lot easier than trying to smoke it.”

“Okay,” he agrees. She gives him what she hopes is a reassuring smile, but it’s probably lopsided now she’s high and drunk.

He follows her instructions. When she leans in, mouth full of smoke, he parts his lips for her to blow smoke into his mouth. He inhaled it, coughing only a little, and she pulls back.

“See?” She grins. “A lot easier, wasn’t it?” He nods. “Want to do it that way for now?” She asks as she takes another hit.

“Yeah,” he agrees. He’s looking a little glassy-eyed and she wishes it was because of her and not the high.

She continues to blow smoke into his mouth, but pushes her luck with each hit. She gets closer and closer each time, until their lips are nearly touching. She feels the high more than the buzz from the alcohol, but teasing herself like this is more of a high than the joint. She’s always wanted to kiss him and this is probably as close as she’s going to get.

“How are you feeling?” She asks when half of the joint is smoked. He just nods. “That good, huh?” She laughs. “Let’s save this for later, then.” She puts it out on the ashtray she brought for this occasion, setting it aside.

“Is it always like this?” He asks, staring at her intently for someone who is both high  _ and _ drunk.

“Smoking a joint?” He nods. “Depends. You get more of a high directly from the source, in my opinion. Some people also just have a low tolerance for it.” Her tolerance is probably moderate, considering she smokes once a month. Usually at a party.

He’s quiet after that, staring down at his hands where they rest on his thighs. She tries not to laugh, all too familiar with that intense first high. She wants him to enjoy this. They’ve earned it, after all. It’s been a long, difficult semester. Not to mention she’s not going to see him for a while after this. Not until next semester.

The thought is a real bummer and she frowns, but quickly tries to cover it up. She doesn’t want him to catch on and feel bad. That would be the worst thing considering he’s calmly enjoying his very first high. She wants to keep it that way.

She finishes off her beer, reaching into the cool for another. Most of the ice is melted, making the bottle slippery, but she uses her shirt to wipe it down. She pops the top off, tossing it into the garbage, and takes several long swigs. If her mouth is busy, she won’t be able to say anything or make a face to betray her emotions.

“Hand me one,” he says even as he reaches over her to grab one. He sways slightly and she can smell the mix of his deodorant, the beer, and the marijuana. She tries not to let it affect her, but she really wants to kiss him.

She manages to reign in the urge by taking another deep swig of beer. He settles back down beside her, although it feels like he’s much closer. Their arms brush with every subtle movement and she blushes, turning her face away and pretending to be staring at something on his door. Anything to distract her.

“What do you do with the other half?” He asks and she has to look at him. He’s pointing at the joint resting on the ashtray. “Do you just...throw it away?”

“No,” she shakes her head with a fond smile. “You can still smoke it. Just thought you might like to wait a little between hits.”

“Oh.” He drags his warm brown eyes up to her. “How long do you usually wait?”

She can’t help but laugh. He seems so earnest in his curiosity, yet eager for more of that high. She reaches for the joint and the lighter, knowing what he wants. She hands it to him, but he shakes his head with a frown.

“The other way,” he explains before she can ask. “It was easier.” She feels her face grow hot, but if he asks she’ll just play it off as a combination of the beer and the sweltering heat of his room.

She puts the joint to her lips, lighting up. She takes a deep drag, holding it in her mouth, so she can lean into Tadashi. He meets her halfway, lips parting, and she blows the smoke between them. She hears him suck on deeply, holding his breath, and she lingers longer than necessary. When he releases his breath, she finally pulls back.

“Good?” She queries as she takes her own drag.

“Yeah.” He looks a little flush. She tries not to stare as he rolls his shirt sleeves up to his shoulders, muscles flexing. He’s surprisingly built. She knows he works out occasionally, but in these moments she can really see it.

She takes another hit to keep from saying something, leaning towards him. He misjudges the distance and suddenly their lips are touching. He pulls back quickly, ready to apologize, but she puts her lips over his. She breathes the smoke into his mouth, savoring the moment before pulling back.

He’s looking at her with wide eyes, mouth still open. She wants to feel bad. That could’ve been his first kiss she just stole. She doesn’t feel bad about it. It was too thrilling and she’s too drunk to feel guilty. She should still apologize.

“Too much?” She asks. He shakes his head.

“Why did you do that?”

“Because I like you.” She takes another drag. “I’ve told you before.”

“You have,” he agrees. He shakes his head slowly. Maybe it’s finally getting through to him.

She decides to test the waters. She takes a drag, holding the smoke, and leans in. He doesn’t flinch. He gets as close as he can and she presses their mouths together, releasing the smoke into his mouth. He tastes like chapstick and cheap beer. She loves it. She wants to stay here forever.

But she can’t.

She pulls back, letting him breathe and orient himself. She goes back to her beer, chugging the rest of it. Her mouth is getting dry. She should probably switch to water. She’s going to have trouble walking home. Maybe he’ll offer to let her stay and they can curl up in his tiny twin-sized bed.

Finally, they use up the last of the joint. She puts the remaining paper in the ashtray. She’ll have to find somewhere to dump it. Maybe the dumpster outside. It’s not like anyone is going to tell on her for smelling like pot. All her roommates smoke, too. She really only needs to worry about being caught by someone in Tadashi’s dorm building.

“I should head out,” she says. “It’s getting late.”

“Okay,” he agrees. A part of her wishes he’d ask her to stay. Another part of her wonders how hopeless this crush is. “I’ll walk you out.”

She thinks about kissing him at the door, but decides not to. She doesn’t have the excuse of sharing smoke anymore. He might push her away. This is going to be the last she sees him for a while. She shouldn’t risk their friendship.

Her walk home is filled with doubt. Maybe she shouldn’t have done that. Maybe she should have done this. So many  _ what if’s _ and no real answers. She’s just glad he hadn’t pushed her away.

**➄**

Her mom got remarried during the semester and moved in with her new husband, meaning she’s not going to her childhood home for the summer for the first time since she started university. She’s going to tiny Miyagi Prefecture to her mother’s husband’s modest house settled among farms. It’s all very quaint. At least they have a convenience store within walking distance.

The owner barely pays her any attention, sitting behind the counter smoking a cigarette. She can hear the cicadas chirping outside in the blistering summer heat. Her tank top clings to her with sweat and the cool interior of the shop is a relief. She walks to the back, to the coolers, and grabs a six pack of cheap beer. Something to help her get through the heat.

Her attention is drawn from the snacks by the bell tinkling above the door. Her eyes slowly move to the newcomer, wondering if she’s in their way, when they widen with recognition.

“Tadashi?” She didn’t know he lived here. Or is he visiting?

“Hey,” he smiles. “I didn’t know you lived near here.”

“My mom just moved here, actually.” She explains. “Her, uh, new husband lives here.”

“It’s a nice surprise to see you.” The way he says it makes her stomach flutter. It’s only been three weeks. “What are you buying?”

“Beer,” she answers with a shrug. “Some salty snacks. Something to keep the heat away.”

“It really is a scorcher.” She can’t believe they’re discussing the weather as if they hadn’t shared a joint three weeks ago. As if her lips hadn’t been on his.

“Right,” she agrees. An awkward silence passes. “Well, I should get going. I’m supposed to be watching the house while my mom is on her honeymoon.”

“Maybe I could come over,” he quickly says. “That is, if you want me to come over. I don’t have to.”

“That would be great,” she interrupts his rambling. “The house is pretty lonely, actually. I could do with some company. Wanna come over and help me drink these?” She holds up the six pack. “My treat.”

“Sure,” he agrees with an easy grin.

She pays for the beer and their snacks. They walk side by side to her mom’s house, neither saying much. The sun is starting to set, but the heat is still near unbearable. She can’t wait until the sun finally goes down and it starts to cool off. She much prefers cooler temperatures.

She unlocks the door for them, ushering him inside. They place their shoes by the door. She flicks on lights as they go, leading him down the hall to the kitchen. She puts the beers in the fridge, keeping two out for them. She wonders if he wants to watch a movie or something.

“So is this where you grew up?” She asks, pulling the tab on a beer. It hisses open and she takes a sip.

“Yeah,” he answers. “My parents still live in the area, so I come stay with them on breaks. Sometimes I bump into old classmates.” He opens his own beer. “The owner of that shop is actually my high school volleyball coach.”

“Small world,” she comments and he agrees with a nod. They stand in the kitchen, sweat cooling in the AC, drinking their beers.

She doesn’t know what to say or do, which is a first for her. Usually she’s impulsive, acting before thinking. It’s gotten her nowhere with him, though. And she’d rather not ruin their friendship by being rash. Again. Once she’d sobered up, she regretted kissing him. Not the act itself, but the selfishness behind it. She had vowed to never do that again. Unless he asked, of course.

“Let’s go to the living room and watch a movie or something, if you’ve got the time.”

“Sure.” He trails after her, sitting on the opposite end of the couch. She feels a little weird being so far apart from him, but if it’s what he wants then she’ll deal with it.

She turns the TV on, flipping through the channels. She finally finds an old All Might movie and lets it play in the background while she sips her beer. The noise of it drowns out most of her thoughts, which she’s grateful for. None of them are very helpful.

“I’m going to get the snacks,” she says after at least thirty minutes have passed. She stands up, bringing her empty beer can with her. She hadn’t meant to drink it so fast, but it was something to keep her mouth busy. She didn’t want to blurt something embarrassing.

When she comes back with the snacks, she puts them on the coffee table in front of the couch. She sits beside him under the guise of being close to the food, but really it just helps her feel more normal. Sitting so far away from him feels formal, unfamiliar. They usually sit pressed thigh to thigh or, if they’re across from one another, knee to knee. Having space just feels weird.

The movie plays on, the sun setting and the room growing dark. She thinks briefly she should turn the lights on, but then he’s putting his arm on the back of the couch behind her and she’s too busy pretending it means more than it does to get up.

By the time he leaves, the beer is gone and so is the sun. The streetlights are on, so she feels less guilty about keeping him. At least he won’t need to walk in the dark. It makes her feel a little better. She walks him to the door, where they both stand awkwardly.

“Thanks for hanging out with me,” he says.

“I like hanging out with you.” She says, the words coming easily. “I like you, so any time spent with you is time well spent.”

“Thanks.” His cheeks are pink. “I should get going, though. I’ll text you when I get home.” She nods, watching him go.

She feels stupid as soon as the door is shut. She shouldn’t have said anything. He’s never going to like her as more than a friend. She should just get over this now. It’s a waste of time and effort. She should just accept they’ll only ever be friends and live with it.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t cry about it.

**ⓔⓧⓣⓡⓐ**

She’s a masochist. There’s no other reason to explain why she agreed to let him come back over for another movie. She should be spending the break getting over him and she can’t do that if he’s around her. She must be a masochist. Or just stupid.

Much to her surprise, he brings a joint this time. It’s oddly endearing how proud he looks when he shows her. She wonders if it’s the real deal or if some kid off the street sold him some oregano. She hopes for the sake of his pride that it’s the real deal.

She’s a little disappointed when he takes the first drag and doesn’t choke. A piece of her wanted it to be like last time, so she could get an indirect kiss. She tries not to let her disappointment show. She chugs her beer and stares at the TV screen.

He nudges her and she looks, going cross-eyed because he’s a lot closer than she expected. He taps at her arm and she realizes he’s trying to shotgun. She chuckles, but obligingly parts her lips for him. It’s kind of weird to be on the receiving end, but it’s Tadashi. She’s willing to give it a shot.

They’re a couple beers in at this point, which is probably why he’s feeling brave. She’s not complaining. She rather likes it. His breath is warm and, beneath the smoke, she can pick up the mint from his toothpaste. She thinks she can barely taste the cherry from his chapstick. She closes her eyes without meaning to.

He kisses her. Well, not really a kiss so much as he seals their mouths together to blow smoke into hers. It’s reminiscent of that night and she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to savor every second. She wants to remember this. The warmth of his mouth. The taste of his lips.

When he pulls back, she’s flush and glassy-eyes for reasons unrelated to the booze or drugs. She hopes he doesn’t think too hard on it. He hands her the joint and she takes a drag, leaning forward to blow the smoke into his mouth.

They continue passing back and forth, mouths pressed together, until he doesn’t pull back. It takes her a moment to realize he’s kissing her. Like, actually kissing her. She forgets to breathe, only to gasp into his mouth when she remembers. She feels him smile against her mouth, laughter bubbling up from his chest, and quickly kisses back before the moment passes.

It’s everything she hoped it would be and more. His lips are chapped, despite the chapstick, and he tastes like smoke and cherries. His kisses are delicate, like he’s afraid she’s going to pull away. She’s not going to. She presses closer, as close as she can get without climbing into his lap. She muffles his laughter with her mouth, until he’s finally quiet.

It’s everything she had hoped for and more. His mouth is warm and wet and eager. She doesn’t want to stop. Her head is spinning, her heart pounding. She’s elated. She never thought she’d get this. She pulls away, breathless.

“Why did you kiss me?” She asks because she has to.

“Because I like you.”

She kisses him again and she can feel his smile.


End file.
